Like a Moonbeam
by borntoBwild50
Summary: Twilight does not belong to me! This story is a small story about Edward and Bella interacting. Just cute stuff I like to write in my spare time.


The sighting

At night, when Bella slept, and Edward, being a vampire, could not, he found his own sort of rest leaning his head lightly back against her warm shoulder and staring unblinkingly out at the sky. In Forks, though, more often than not, dense rain clouds shrouded the stars and made skygazing a dull occupation for human and vampire alike. But, one extraordinary, exquisite Saturday night, at two in the morning, the skies shone smooth, sheer and perfect.

In that rare clearness, Edward glimpsed an angel.

Like a falling star, silvery and slim, he stared at it swooping through the clouds on some enigmatic mission and shock flickered through his features. His body tensed as if he had been struck a blow in the stomach, and that slight change was enough to startle Bella awake.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, eyelashes heavy and damp with sleep.

"Nothing, its—" He patted her hand as he surveyed the skies. Empty, not a feather from seraphim wing. "It's…gone now," he breathed, surprised. "Go to sleep Bella. I didn't mean to wake you."

She was fully awake now, rubbing her eyes and yawning in a white nightgown, dark eyes surveying his face. "Tell me now. You look…like you've seen a ghost…" She smiled.

Edward shook his head.

"Just tell me. I'm awake already, and I can't sleep now that you've made me curious. Don't be cruel!" She grinned playfully, feet hanging off the edge of the bed by his side, but his smile in return was weak and rather grim.

"It was nothing," he said forcefully, lifting her back into bed and tucking her in tightly.

The plan

Early in the morning, he called to tell Charlie that Bella would be sleeping over with the Cullens for the weekend, Dr. Cullen or Mrs. Cullen would be supervising at all time of course, and would Charlie mind? Charlie's brain, foggy with want of sleep, slurrily consented, and Bella was scooped out of her room in a dazed confusion, into Edward's blue Volvo, and whizzed away.

Within minutes, Edward was speaking earnestly to his adoptive father, Carlisle, in the main room of the Cullen's sweeping mansion, his words too fast and low for Bella to understand. For her, Edward slowed down to enunciate, "…wings and flying…I've got to find it, talk to it…how can I…?"

Jasper, overhearing the conversation as he idled down the stairs, whistled in wonder, but his presence did little to ease the expression of concern in Carlisle's face. "Humans don't get into heaven by chasing angels, Edward," said Carlisle. "The fact that you saw one, isn't that enough to—" Alice, Esme, and Emmet appeared like spirits, flanking Carlisle.

"What's this?" said Emmet.

"Just because I saw something that looks like an angel," said Edward to Carlisle, "doesn't mean there's a God. I need to know now if there's something more. And if there's something more for us."

"Some things aren't meant to be known, Edward," replied Carlisle, his brow furrowed with rare doubt. "Some choices must be based on faith alone. I don't like what you want to do."

Edward's gaze fell to the ground. "But I have to. You'll know where I'll be then, and I'm sorry that you don't like it. Please understand." He turned to Bella, standing numbly by his side. "Are you coming with me?"

She took in the expressions of the Cullens and she was dismayed at their graveness. "Yes!" she declared fervently, almost madly. "Off course I'll come with you. It's never going to be any other way." She grabbed his hands and he towed her away from his silent family.

The pair slid back into Edward's car, and the engine roared to life. Edward eased the car out of the driveway and onto the wide, black road. They drove into the hazy horizon.

"Wait—" said Bella, rather belatedly. "Just where are we going—what are we doing?"

Edward's eyes fixed upon her with fiery intensity. "I saw an angel last night," he said. "And I am going to catch it."

The promise

Edward wanted to park Bella in a hotel, but she wouldn't stay inside if Edward would be outside, eyes aimed heavenward. He almost decided to drop her off at the nearest Holiday Inn and sneak out afterwards at night, but he was so afraid she'd trip and hit her head on the bathtub or electrocute herself with the hotel hairdryer, or worse—try to follow him and get lost, that he grudgingly set up a tent for them both. Besides, he valued her unconditional—if unfounded—support. It held him up after Carlisle—Carlisle—and his entire family had all told him, essentially, "No." Something that had never happened before.

He couldn't believe they didn't understand how important this was to him.

But Bella, Bella never said he was crazy, or suggested he get his vision checked. "Do you have a plan?" she asked seriously, sitting cross-legged in the tent, and he knew, with a strange combination of guilt, pride, and dizzying love that he'd receive the same response if he'd told her he intended to relocate the entire continental United States to the moon. Because she believed he could do anything.

"Not really. I'll wing it," he said with weak humor, scanning the rolling meadow around them. No one. He sat down across from her with careful grace and handed her a canteen of water. She cradled it in her hands, but didn't drink, which bothered him.

"What did it look like?" she asked. "Was it…pretty?"

He smiled. "If I could build an angel, she'd look like you," he told her fondly, "and even then she wouldn't be half as Bella as you are—not pretty, pretty's not the word. Different. Glowing."

"When you go after it," said Bella, "When you really run after it, is it okay if I come with you? I want to see…" She looked guilty to voice such a selfish desire.

"It'll be danger—" He paused. "Okay," he said. "So you'll better get your sleep now."

Bella pouted. "You'd better not run off," she said. "I'm getting suspicious about you wanting me to sleep all the time." He chuckled as she dozed.

The pause

Cradled high in the branches of the solitary tree, Edward scanned the skies, Bella fretting below him, even though he had said, "I don't fall out of trees, Bella."

"Anything?" she called, shivering.

"No, not yet," he said. "Bella, get back in the tent, it's cold. I'll tell you when I see it."

"I don't want to slow you down," she said. "And I'm fine…"

"Will it come again?" he murmured. Maybe it was one of those once in a lifetime experiences… Well he didn't regret not going after it the night before. To leave Bella for who knows how long; to rekindle her fear of him leaving her, her anguished expression…

One good sign: the steady wind swept the sky clean again. Was it stars that brought the angels out?

Hours dragged by… At 11:11 PM, unknown to Edward, Bella made a wish… Midnight came and passed through and Bella sagged distressingly at the base of the tree so Edward slid down the trunk to cheer her up…

"Can't—fall—asleep—" she begged herself.

Panic

Sometime around three, with the hooting off an owl in the distance, Edward told Bella she might as well catnap since nothing was coming. Bella refused. Edward sighed and climbed back up the tree to sulk—albeit in a graceful, admirable, perfect vampire way.

Hardly a minute had passed when he sensed movement in the bushes at the edge of the meadow. "Stay still Bella," he whispered, and inched further along the branch to get a better look.

Bella, though, was gifted with perfect, normal, human hearing and a knack of standing in the very worst place at the very worst time. Edward's whisper was meaningless to her, especially in her state of half-sleep, and she stumbled towards the rustling noise. ("I thought it was—you know—an angel—" Bella confessed later. "I just wanted to help…")

It was a human, definitely. Edward could hear its droning human thoughts: What was that? …That noise… there's a shape there…white…about the right size…no people in this area… He glimpsed a blurred white shape in the man's mind, confused at what the man was looking at. Because the man was: (a) intoxicated and (b) incoherent as well as (c) once-upon-a-hippie and disinclined to think the words "gun", "doe", "shoot" and "kill".

Edward heard the click of a rifle too late, though he dove off the tree branch and towards Bella, a good three yards away, the bullet was faster, snapping out of the bushes with a bang, ricocheting into Bella's side and clanging into Edward's fingers as he caught her. She screamed and sobbed quietly, as her blood ran all over Edward's arm.

"Bella? Bella?" he said, panicky, "Oh my God no…"

...

Was it stars that brought the angels out?

He would have killed that hunter right then and there. The pasty, fat man in a plaid cap with earflaps, so lumbering and incompetent, reeking of Budweiser, who dared to shoot his Bella. He would have torn him limb from limb as he had done to James in the dance studio, and he wouldn't touch a drop of the man's repulsive blood to his lips.

The ex-hippie hunter caught sight of Bella lying in a heap, Edward crouched beside her as she echoed balefully, "God…"

Edward's gold eyes glittered with menace and the man, recovering from his horror, turned to run.

He would have brought him down at that instant, tossed him to the ground and shredded him, but Bella was dying slowly, calling his name. "Go away," he snarled at Monsieur Ex-Hippie Hunter. "Go away and pray you never see me again."

That's when Edward found that no; it wasn't stars that brought the angels out, but blood in copious, fatal quantities.

...

Like a moonbeam, like a falling star, the angel descended without warning, guarding the man from Edward and looking over the fallen girl like a mother. Its robes were luminous, flowing like water, and glittering a million sharp colors like mother-of-pearl, but without any oiliness. The grass faded white under its feet, its height gave it the feel of a young, slim tree, white-barked. Its stern gray eyes reminded Edward of why he came to the meadow in the first place.

"Tell me if there's more for my kind," he blurted, and then, even faster, "Don't let Bella die."

The angel's expression did not change as it looked down at them. Shrilly, in the distance, came the ex-hippie hunter's scream. The corner of the angel's white lip twitched and it turned with a sweeping ripple like an ocean wave, set to ascend. Bella moaned incoherently.

The white wings unfurled, sweeping the silver curls aloft, like satin ribbons. Desperately, Edward seized hold of the angel's wrists. "Help me," he said.

In the angel's hand appeared a silver scythe, wickedly curved. The other hand raised a single finger. Edward probed the angel's mind, but it was unlike anything he had heard before. A roaring melody and swirling gold and white, but no spoken thoughts, no pictures.

"I won't let go unless you help me," said Edward bravely.

"I can't help you unless you let me go," replied the angel. "And only one thing. Only one."

"Save Bella," said Edward, releasing the angel.

The angel inclined its head, and the scythe vanished. "It is done."

"Can't you tell me—"

"What about 'one thing' don't you understand, Dead One?" snapped the angel. A flicker of annoyance dashed across its Grecian features. "My Master doesn't want me rented out as a flying Wikipedia."

Edward's hand swept over Bella's forehead. Her breathing had calmed and the blood had stopped flowing. "Who is that?" she whispered, eyelids fluttering. "What happened?"

"Now I really must leave," said the angel. "If the girl sees me…"

"I promised her I would let her see you if I did," said Edward stubbornly. "And you don't want to be the reason for a broken promise."

"I do hate smart alecks," muttered the angel. It bent over and waved a white hand over Bella's eyes. "Hello? Anyone home? Your boyfriend wants you to see me so hurry up about it. I have things to do."

Bella sat up like a squirrel struck by lightning. "An angel!"

"No duh."

"God…" she paused to reattach her swinging jaw. "I mean—the question—Edward—is he going to heaven? Can vampires—go to heaven?"

"I am not answering that," said the angel, looking very harassed. "I saved your life and I think that's enough, don't you?" It turned to Edward. "Well, she's seen me. Hasta lluego, amigo…"

Bella wobbled to her feet. "Now, wait. You're an angel! You're supposed to be kind. Can't you help him out?"

The angel rolled its eyes. "I can. But I don't want to. Do you know how busy I am? The devil's posting ads on TV now for casinos and booby-trapping the highways to them. A stupid human drives to the casino, looking forward to 'making big money' and what happens? He gets caught up in a two-hour portal and is treated to a presentation by a salesdemon convincing the idiot to buy Hellish Hotdogs. One bite and you're possessed. Literally." Even Edward's mouth had fallen open, which the angel seemed to enjoy seeing. "Nice canines, Dead boy," it said. "See why I can't idle around answering questions?"

"One minute," said Bella, struggling for words. "One minute—just one short reply. 'Yes' or 'no'; it won't take much time."

"As cryptic as you like," offered Edward. "I don't mind. Just don't leave without a word." He fell to one knee and bowed his head. "Please."

Bella put a hand on his back and stared the angel in the eye. "Please," she repeated, her face smooth and thin, and quite pure.

"That's not fair," muttered the angel, countenance twisted with indecision. "I—" It scowled. "Fine. Fine. Here's what I'll tell you."

Edward looked up face glowing with hope and the angel was tempted to say something utterly ridiculous, like "Why'd the chicken cross the road?" But it could feel the want in Edward to know the truth, and out of the kindness that it possessed bountifully it said gently, "Jewish, Gentile, Samaritan, Criminal…God doesn't look at the outside things. I think you'll do fine, dear."

And then it really flew off, unfurling its great wings and lifting up, leaving the soft scent of rain.


End file.
